


Until The End

by weakinteraction



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Force Choking (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 03:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20557727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: Just how far does Canderous's loyalty go?





	Until The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linndechir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/gifts).

"General Ordo!"

Like a ghost against the starfield ahead, Canderous could see the faint reflection of the young adjutant, snapping to attention as she spoke.

Canderous resisted the urge to tug on his too-tight collar as he turned around. Months later, and he still didn't feel at ease in this uniform, but he's worked hard not to show it to his troops, who look at him with a curious mixture of awe, fear and disdain. Some of the veterans, still perceiving a continuity between the Sith fleet now and the fleet Revan led against the Mandalorians when he was still a Jedi Knight, saw him as an enemy mistakenly allowed into the heart of the operation. For some of the newer recruits, the ones who see the Sith as an outlet for their hatred, his being their superior was an outrage made only barely acceptable that his appointment comes from Lord Revan himself.

He stared at the adjutant until she realised that Canderous wasn't going to say anything. "Communication from Rakata, sir," she said, handing over a datapad. "Lord Revan has departed aboard his flagship and wishes to rendezvous with us."

Canderous glanced down at the datapad. The rendezvous co-ordinates were several systems from here.

The intent of the message was clear; Revan wanted the fleet withdrawn, and was giving Canderous cover for doing so without making it seem like a retreat. He could hardly disobey a direct order from the Lord of the Sith himself, could he?

But there was just enough ambiguity in the wording to give him an out. "Prepare my shuttle," Canderous said.

The adjutant's expression of surprise was momentary, but telling. "Of course, sir," she said. "Would you like to request any particular pilot?"

Canderous looked directly at her. "I was riding Basilisk war droids on orbital drops before you were born. I can fly a shuttle."

"Of course, sir," she said. "But I must insist that you have some sort of accompaniment. Protocol demands it."

Canderous sighed. If this were the Republic, the protocol would have been about ensuring the safety of a high ranking officer. With the Sith, it was all about ensuring his loyalty, that he wasn't about to start plotting against his superiors. Or at least, that if he was, he would have to whet his blade first, or bring others over to his side. Either would prove he was a worthy challenger. They didn't understand -- none of them did -- that he could never betray Revan.

Then he remembered: there was one other who understood what it was like. "Very well," Canderous said, to the adjutant's obvious, if understated, relief. "I'll take the droid."

"Understood, sir." The adjutant started to retreat backwards, then paused. "Sir, will you be informing the unit of its new assignment or--"

It was only then that Canderous smiled. "I thought I'd leave that pleasure to you."

* * *

"Obvious Statement: the master will be displeased that you have ignored the clear intent of his instructions."

They had been travelling through hyperspace for over half an hour before HK-47 had seen fit to vocalise anything at all. Why it had broken its silence now, and why by saying this, who could say?

"If we withdraw the fleet now, we lose everything. The planet will erupt in open rebellion."

"Speculation: the master may see this as a desirable state of affairs in the short term. The crushing of a rebellion would have a salutary effect on the entire sector."

Canderous shook his head. If that _was_ Revan's plan, then it was an uncharacteristically bad one. The edge of the sector was porous, uncharted parts of the Outer Rim only a few hyperspace jumps away for those who were daring or desperate enough to take them. A rebellion here, allowed to fester, could become a long-running problem for years, even decades to come. "Don't worry. I'm sure 'the master' and I will be able to come to an agreement in the end." Either Revan would let him in on the real plan, or Canderous might, as he did every once in a while, manage to win him over with a reasoned argument.

"Inquiry: will you be resorting to your usual methods of persuasion?"

The droid was not referring to reasoned argument, he knew. "That need hardly concern you, droid."

There was a small flash of light and a fizzling sound as HK discharged several capacitor banks simultaneously, the droid equivalent of a snort. "Anticipatory Statement: Assuming the master has no other assignment for me, as seems likely, I shall schedule a full internal diagnostic on my photoreceptors and audio sensors. They will be insensitive to external input for several hours."

"I'll try to use that time wisely, then," Canderous said.

* * *

Revan wanted to spar. That wasn't unusual in and of itself, but the fact that it came before any discussion was a little concerning. He wondered if he had finally outlived his usefulness, or exhausted whatever extra leeway Revan gave him because of ... whatever this was between them. Canderous knew full well that if Revan wanted him dead, he would be dead, that even the tiniest fraction of his strength with the Force was enough to snuff out the life in Canderous instantly. If he was going to do it here, like this, it was because he wanted it to look like an accident, or to teach Canderous one final lesson before he was disposed of.

Or, just perhaps, he really did want to spar, work out his frustrations even if Canderous was the cause of at least some of them.

Whatever was going on behind it all, now here they were, in a cavernous cargo bay hurriedly cleared in the belly of the flagship; Canderous heaving the great blade they had taken from the Wookiee planet in both hands, facing off against the deep red glow of Revan's lightsaber. That an artefact from such a primitive place should be woven through with cortosis was bizarre, but Canderous had been there in the Shadowlands and listened to the strange story of its forging, right before they had finally slain the old chieftain.

The ancient weapon held up well, though, each of Canderous' increasingly desperate parries holding Revan off successfully. And then, spotting just a momentary chance, Canderous pressed the attack, driving Revan onto the defensive, forcing him back against the wall.

On some days, that would have been enough to make Revan yield. Instead, they stood there; Canderous searched in Revan's eyes, lit red by the glow of the lightsaber he was only barely holding Canderous off with, for some sign of his intentions. But they were unreadable.

He got his answer when he felt himself lifted off the floor, his throat constricting. Bacca's Blade clattered to the floor as he scrabbled instinctively, uselessly, at his throat, as though the hand Revan was extending was really wrapped around it.

At the same time, though, Canderous was acutely aware of the way that his cock was stiffening. It wasn't entirely an involuntary response.

"Using ... the Force ... is ... cheating," he gasped between increasingly difficult breaths. If Revan truly intended to kill him, it made no difference what he said. And if he didn't, then Canderous was giving him the opportunity to reset things.

Revan released the grip and Canderous fell badly to the floor. A moment later, the cargo bay fell into near-total darkness as Revan deactivated his lightsaber. Only the dim emergency lighting, thin strips set high into the walls, illuminated the scene as Revan leapt on him, pinning him to the ground.

So, it was going to be the 'usual methods of persuasion' after all, it seemed. Canderous scrambled for the fastenings of Revan's cloak, but Revan batted his hands away easily before turning instead to removing Canderous's own clothing. When he pulled off the utilitarian undergarments and Canderous's cock, still hard, sprang free, Revan wrapped his hand around it and pumped back and forth, once, twice, then stopped.

Canderous' breath was nearly as ragged now as it had been when Revan was choking him. "Please," he said hoarsely.

"Please what?" Revan said. A sudden flash of white as his lips parted in a dangerous smile, revealing his teeth.

"Please make me come," Canderous said, defeated.

Revan let go of his cock and moved backwards. Canderous tried but failed to suppress a groan of disappointment.

But then, suddenly, his legs were in the air, Revan pushing them back so that his knees met his chest, his ass suddenly exposed. He heard Revan spit, a moment later felt the cool saliva land directly on its target.

Canderous was just as vulnerable as Revan hadn't-really-been earlier when he'd had him pinned against the wall.

Revan reached inside his robes and pulled out his own cock, which was itself hard. Canderous felt the same surge of desire he always did, wanted to stroke it with his fingers, worship it with his lips and tongue, but it was clear that they were far beyond that already.

Revan thrust into him roughly, smile broadening to a grin. Canderous grunted and shuffled slightly to accommodate Revan better. Revan steadied himself, his hands on Canderous' calves, and began to slide in and out, slowly but not tenderly. It was a display of control -- both Revan's self-control, and his control over Canderous.

Canderous began to lose track of time, of space as well. There was nothing in the universe except Revan, his hands pushing down on his legs, his cock inside Canderous, the warmth of him, the feeling of the heaviness of his robes brushing against Canderous as he thrust into him.

After some unknowable length of time, Revan pushed down even harder on his legs, forcing his ass upwards. Then he began to thrust more vigorously, and the angle was _just_ right to hit Canderous' prostate. Just as Revan intended, Canderous was sure; as his rhythm quickened, Canderous felt the overwhelming stimulation.

It was only as he was already coming that Revan's hand once more went to Canderous' cock, gripping it hard, squeezing it dry as Canderous came.

At the same time, he felt Revan explode inside him, filling him up, reminding him of exactly where he belonged, who he belonged to.

"I made you come," Revan said.

In that moment, Canderous could only moan incoherently.

"But not quite in the way you were expecting," Revan went on. "Which is appropriate, of course, "

Canderous scrambled mentally to reassemble enough coherence to take part in this conversation. Of course they were having it now. Of course they were.

"The strategic disadvantage of withdrawing the fleet--"

"Was irrelevant," Revan said lightly. At long last, he lay down next to Canderous.

"But the potential for a rebellion--"

"There will be no rebellion. The population is more than sufficiently cowed. They do not need to have the fleet in orbit forever to know that it could return at any time. Your mistake," Revan said, "is to assume that the vast majority of the people of the galaxy are like you." His hand went to Revan's shoulder, not firmly, but not lightly either, and then down his flank, past the old scars and the new ones. "Seeking honour in battle and death in glory."

Canderous considered this, but only for a moment. "No," he said. "I know that most people are cowards. But I've also seen what happens when they get desperate."

"But soon there will be nothing for them to be desperate about," Revan said. "Before long, the majority will see the benefits of Sith rule. And then they themselves will keep the minority in line."

Canderous nodded. It seemed entirely possible.

"As soon as we're done here"--and part of Canderous thrilled to the idea that they weren't done, not yet--"you'll send orders to proceed to the next target. Then you can rejoin the fleet." Revan trailed his fingers almost absent-mindedly through the mess of come on Canderous' stomach, brought it to up to his mouth for Canderous to clean up. "And next time you think about using your initiative when I've been perfectly clear, you can remember this. What happens when requests get interpreted creatively."

Canderous grunted, as close to an apology as he would allow himself to give. Even in this situation, he still reserved the right to some pride.

"It's not that I don't want you to use your brain," Revan said, and now his hands were in Canderous' hair, digging into his scalp as though he was claiming that too, as though he hadn't done so long ago. "I just want you to remember that I _do_ know best."


End file.
